


picture perfect memories

by aceofdiamonds



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:29:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofdiamonds/pseuds/aceofdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn and Niall go to the beach. Basically, what Niall wants Niall gets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	picture perfect memories

"Zaaaaayn, let's go to the beeeeeeach."

"S'raining, go back to sleep."

"No. Get up, I want to go to the beach,"

And so, because no one can say no to Niall - _no one can_ , try it - Zayn finds himself stumbling out the door half an hour later, rubbing sleep from his eyes as Niall bounces along beside him garbling about sun and sandcastles and Zayn doesn't understand because it's _raining_. 

He finds out when they're boarding the plane to the south of France. 

"We're going to _France_?!"

"I want to go to the beach." Niall says like this is the normal thing to do. 

"You shouldn't be allowed access to so much money." he tells Niall who just beams and points towards the woman telling them how to inflate their lifejacket. 

"Pay attention. I'm not saving your life." 

"You're ridiculous." is all Zayn says. Then falls asleep on Niall's shoulder. 

It feels like a second later that Niall is shaking him gently and whispering "We're just about to land" in his ear prompting him to lean over Niall and look out onto the sandy beaches thousands of feet below. 

Zayn has to tell Niall to calm down when they're going though passport control, sunglasses on their noses and baseball caps pulled low over their faces so people don't recognise them - yeah, they don't look suspicious _at all_. 

Niall deigns it his job to find a suitable spot to settle down in once they've finally reached the beach; a small, secluded one near Nice with not too much teenagers and a lot of middle-aged couples stretched out on the sand. 

It's... not bad, Zayn concedes, with the sun beating down on him and Niall stretched out beside him looking pale and beautiful against the golden sand.

Or, maybe not exactly pale anymore. 

"You're burnt," he sighs at the red flush blossoming from the middle of Niall's chest and spreading everywhere by the second. 

"The Irish in me," Niall mumbles, looking entirely too happy to lay back and allow Zayn to rub factor 50 all over him, his hands sure and gentle as they move across his pale pale chest, along his arms then down to the v of his hips.

"You blame everything on the Irish in you." Zayn accuses him, laughing when Niall flips onto his front, raising his sunglasses an inch to wink at him then look pointedly at his back which is covered in sand but looks set to burn if Zayn doesn’t do anything about it. He brushes the sand off, ducking to kiss Niall’s neck when he yelps at the rough drag across his skin, then rubs more lotion across his body, drawing patterns and words then swirling over them with his hands when Niall warns him he better not end up with a dick burnt onto his back. 

They lie there for a couple of hours just soaking up the sun and each other. Niall is humming under his breath and Zayn should find it irritating because from what he can work out it’s Justin Bieber but nothing Niall does is irritating to Zayn, it’s pathetic, Louis’ called him out on it several times, so Zayn just smiles to himself and reaches out blindly to grab Niall’s hand. The humming stops. 

“’M hungry.” 

“Of course you are.”

“Take me to get something to eat.” 

Zayn cracks open an eye to see Niall hovering above him, “Can’t you do anything by yourself?” 

“Is it wrong to want to spend time with my boyfriend in a beautiful country?” Niall replies, sticking his hand out for Zayn to take hold of. Zayn’s halfway up when Niall lets go and he falls back on the hot sand with a yelp. 

“Fuck you.”

“Suckaaaar.” Niall laughs before leaping away from Zayn and skipping up to the cafe at the top of the steps leading down to the beach. Zayn feels it would be inappropriate and probably frowned upon by the older generation surrounding him if he was to yell abuse after Niall so instead just packs up their two towels, t-shirts and the sun tan lotion and follows Niall. 

“ _Bonjour_.” The waiter smiles at them, setting down two glasses of water in front of them. “ _Qu'est-ce que vous voulez boire?_ ”

The boys exchange panicked glances. Neither of them can remember GCSE French; the only words Zayn knows are curses like _merde_ and Christ, Zayn can’t even remember any more than that. 

Niall’s taking charge, beaming up at the waiter like he understood everything he just said. “Uh, two –“ he hold two fingers up and the man nods then gestures for him to go on, “- Cokes... _s'il vous plait_?” 

The waiter writes it down, laughing a little. “English?” he asks in a heavily accented voice and Niall and Zayn both nod frantically. It’s ridiculous, really, the amount of times they’ve came to France with the band yet they can barely speak a word of the native language.

“Why the fuck didn’t you take us to Spain?” Once the waiter’s gone Zayn rolls his eyes as Niall shrugs and gulps down half his water. “You’re practically fucking fluent in Spanish!” 

“I liked your face when you didn’t know what the waiter was saying.” Niall does this giant grin and ugh _why_ does he love such an idiot? 

“Bet you can’t order the whole meal in French?” Zayn challenges him just to be annoying. 

Zayn ends up with a plate of strawberries and Niall has ice cream. 

“Next time we’re going to Spain.” 

Niall beams at the promise of next time. Zayn pushes his face into his ice cream. 

After lunch Zayn lies back on the sand and tries to ignore Niall’s pleads of “Please help me build a sandcastle.” He tries flattery – “but you’re really good at digging” – and he tries blackmail – “if you don’t help I’m dumping this sand on your head, I swear to God” – but it’s not until he climbs up Zayn’s body and kisses him, slipping his tongue into Zayn’s mouth and tugging on his bottom lip with promises of more later if he gets off his lazy arse, that Zayn finds himself helping to build the bloody sandcastle. 

It’s actually kinda fun, Zayn will admit to no one. He digs up the sand, Niall piles it into the bucket and then they both hold their breath as they turn it upside down and pat it gently before pulling the bucket off. Niall laughs delightedly when the first one turns out perfect and because Niall’s laugh is contagious and is music to Zayn’s ears Zayn laughs as well, immediately starting the next one. 

They make a palace with five turrets and a drawbridge, Zayn’s pretty fucking proud of it. It’s decided that Zayn and Niall will be the King and Queen, they don’t try and decide who will be who, that would just cause an argument. Louis can be the Jester, Harry the Chef and Liam... they can’t quite decide on Liam. 

“He can be our Butler!” Niall cackles like this is the best thing he’s ever thought of then paws at Zayn’s arm till he rolls his eyes and agrees. 

“Liam’s gonna be thrilled about that.” 

“Let’s not tell him.” Niall yawns, dropping his head onto Zayn’s shoulder. Zayn’s feeling kind of tired as well; the beach is slowly emptying and they’re the only ones left in this particular part. “Let’s not tell anyone about today. It can be our little –“ he breaks off to yawn again and Zayn has a rush of affection for the boy beside him, wants to wrap him up and keep him all to himself. “ – secret, kay?”

“Okay.” Zayn smiles then presses a kiss to Niall’s forehead. “How about we stay here forever?”

“Sounds perfect.”

They can’t stay on a beach in the south of France forever, obviously, but Zayn’s moody the first couple of days back anyway. He loves the fame thing, he’s so grateful for everything that he’s achieved and the support they get that grows every day, but he would give anything to go back to sitting on a beach with Niall half asleep on his shoulder and the sun setting in front of them. 

The next time they have a break longer than two days Niall is pulling him from his bed too early; whispering promises that make his mouth curve into a grin and race Niall to the car. On the plane Niall murmurs Spanish in his ear until they touch down, things like _Estoy cachondo pensando en ti_ and _Quiero follarte_ and Zayn has no clue what they mean but Niall makes them sound filthy so he’s squirming in his seat whatever they are. 

He understands the one Niall leans in to whisper when they’re sitting on the beach; it makes him grin then push Niall onto the sand and kiss him until his lips are red and swollen and his chest is flushed. “ _Te amo, Zayn._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Translations ~ (according to a website anyway) 
> 
> Quiero follarte > I want to fuck you.
> 
> Estoy cachondo pensando en ti > I'm so horny for you


End file.
